


THE BLOOD OF DRAGON

by Romantic_06



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hate Sex, Jonerys Kink Fest, Mild orgy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:55:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24214780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantic_06/pseuds/Romantic_06
Summary: It wasn't Daenys who predicted DOOM OF VALYRIA but Daenerys! But unfortunately for her, her family and home wasn't destroyed by a calamity but by the wrath of Dragonwolf.A REPOST BECAUSE FIRST TIME IT COULDN'T MADE IT TO FEED!
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	THE BLOOD OF DRAGON

**Author's Note:**

> **I actually had posted this fic on 15th may but then I was informed in the comments that due to some reasons it didn't made it to the feed. Some tag error that wasn't solved even though I tried. So, I am reposting it today and sincerely hope it makes to the feed. Sorry for the trouble it might have caused to people who bookmarked it and for others I hope you like it**
> 
> DO SHARE YOUR VIEWS IN THE COMMENTS AND LEAVE KUDOS IF YOU LIKE!

“ She must have not gone far away! KEEP LOOKING, YOU BASTARDS!” Feet descended down the muddy stairs of the dungeons with _‘Clunk'_ of the swords and _‘thump'_ of the spears reverberating from the heavy walls. Daenerys clutched the blade closer to her heart that was beating against her chest, feeling the edge of the steel that was so sharp that it could make a prick bleed profusely. It was here, the one that made her scream at nights, the one she warned her family about- THE DOOM OF VALYRIA. She had cried in the hall, pleaded her father to act, to run, to take the people away in the mountains, in the safe haven, where they could have rebuilt their lives. But the Mad King hadn’t listened and neither his council, claiming that the mighty dragons would save them and char their enemies alive. _Her prophecy in one night had turned into a tattle._

But the fate didn’t live by rumours or followed their lead, for it was a mighty blessing that could destroy or make a mortal! And so on the night of the dark sky, the armies of the Western land had marched into the marvellous Valyria, under the command of the _Prince that was Promised_ , the Westerosies craving blood rather than the riches. Dragons had fallen, blood was spilt and at the end, Valyria had paid the price for Rhaegar’s foolishness. Eyes pulled out of their sockets with bleeding wounds marring his chest, the brave warrior now laid in the dust, surrounded by burned building, raped women, crying children and demeaned men. _It was true, there was no honour in defeat!_

Tears fell down her cheeks as the memories of the past came rushing to her mind, knocking her heart up in her throat. _Rhaegar's return from Westeros, His mission to learn about their lands in disguise, The discussions in the court, Revelation of his secret affair with Lyana Stark, Her true identity- King’s betrothed, News of defamed Winters Rose nuptials with Dayne and the birth of his bastard- the prince._ Every detail that was ingrained in her mind from a tender age of six till full-grown sixteen, hitched her breath, finally leaving her breathless when the visions came into view. She slid her finger down the blade, eyeing the door lost in the wall that guarded the secret passage leading outside the city. _She won’t die at the hands of the butchers!_

Cries and thumps became louder, coming close to her hidden spot in the dark, sparing her with a handful breaths to attack or flee. She tightened her grip on the handle and sprinted towards the door at the opportune moment of the guard leaving its post, pushing forward tirelessly on her heavy feet, puffing air in her weary lungs while keeping her eyes on the small crack in the wall. Her freedom was just moments away when she stumbled on her feet and fell on the ground, alerting the guard and the approaching feet that were enclosing her from all the sides. She pointed the dagger at them and then quickly placed it at her neck, when their steps didn’t retrieve.

“Found you, Little Dove. Now, give that dagger in my hand before I have to force my man on you!” The knight said. 

She pushed the tip harder against her skin, a trail of blood sweeping down her neck while her eyes glared at the man that stood two feet taller than her. With clammy hands, she pushed the dagger further, the pain welling down her body as the happy faces of her family filled her mind while she mustered all her courage to take her precious life. _The house Targaryen was coming to end but with honour._ In a flip of a second, she pulled the danger away and moved it to stab her heart when a blow knocked it off her hand and fingers circled around her arm, yanking her up and dragging her to the main hall.

She fought with all her might, screaming and scratching the tight grip as they passed through halls after halls, guards surrounding her from all the sides until they reached the big doors and the knight threw it open, throwing her down on the floor, a few steps away from the king’s seat.

“We found her in the dungeons. She was trying to run away.” The knight said and stepped back to the end of the hall.

Knocking the cup on the metal rest, the portly king glowered down at her from his risen seat. The moony veils hid her sulking face as the feminine voices of torture and hurt surrounded her. She sat on her knees, fiddling with her clean skirt that shone in the light that lit the hall through the mirrored hole in the ceiling, a grace of gods for pure Valyrians. Her eyes stung and ears ached as the brutality of the assault increased, with innocent souls pleading for the mercy of the lords as savage men wounded their honour while naked whores lounged shamelessly on the throne steps or on men's lap. Their moans only made the cries excruciating. Nothing was mighty anymore as Westerosi fed on their honour and spoiled their riches.

“Open your eyes, girl!” The king shouted from his seat as he cupped the mound of the scarlet tart that was laid on his knees.

Besieged and helpless, she reluctantly opened her eyes, the lilacs shining with a sheen of tears as her strength faded with every shriek but the burden of Targaryen prestige didn’t let her falter. _A dragon won’t bow down to a stag!_ A horde of knights surrounded her, ranking from the bottom to the top, the difference clear with what was in their hands- Spears and swords or unfortunate ladies witch cruel fates.

“How dare you go against my words! If it wasn’t for the White Wolf, you would have been here sucking my men's cocks.” He screamed.

The doors to the hall threw open and the man of the hour stomped in with his companions with disgust morphed on their faces and anger bubbling in their eyes. Undeterred by the new company, the barbaric exhibit continued, only for some idle whores leaving their seats to entertain the new guests. But before they could have stepped closer, they were eyed back to their positions. The White Wolf grabbed her arm and brought her back to her feet.

“What is the meaning of this? She was given to me to claim and I had made my intentions very clear of making her wife. Then why has she been brought to this wretched hall before our marriage.” He demanded.

The king rolled the tits of the whore, her sinful cries filling the hall, making the brutish throng charge up their torments while the eyes of the man in the centre fell on the ground. A savage ruling other savages! The Wolf pulled her closer to him and though her existence hated his being, in the circumstances like these, she felt relieved.

“Your whore tried to run away before your morrow wedding. Maybe, she likes to be a slut than a lady.” 

Laughter erupted from the crowd as many lecherous eyes turned towards her, building nausea that threatened wreck out of her throat. She kept her gaze on the floor not wanting to meet them with the man who was holding her with shock on his face or another man for that matter. No amount of care and sympathy from him could replace the hatred that ran in her blood. Clearing his throat, he simply bowed to the King and apologized.

“I take responsibility for her behaviour, My King. I will make sure that she follows every order and behaves every bit like a lady.”

Rage crept in her veins as the Hero of the War ignored the nasty scene around them and instead asked for forgiveness from the fat scoundrel who was a burden on the whole land. His actions justified his other title- _the bastard of Rhaegar Targaryen,_ suiting his personality as the man was no way like her beloved brother and the fact that his flowed in his veins, only irked her.

“You are a brave man of mine, Jon Snow! Even the filthy blood of the Targaryen crook couldn’t tarnish the honour and teachings that you inherited from your late father, Arthur Dayne. Your mother would be proud of you, for you have avenged her on the battlefield but this girl is not like your mother or any lady for that say. Give her up, so that she can take her place where she belongs- in the majestic brothels of Westeros, where she and her future generations can serve my men.” The King eyed her with contempt.

A tear escaped her eyes as the mention of her late brother from his disdainful mouth, shred her heart into tiny pieces. Their men had fought bravely, her brothers had fought bravely but at the end, all was lost in front of gods will. Maybe he was right. She was nothing like Lyana Stark. The lady had brought up her son with determination and made sure he turned out to be the _bestest swordsman_ to walk the land, the one who didn’t hesitate when he plunged his sword in her brother's heart, killing the man responsible for his birth in one breath. The Lady's words had alone brought this havoc on her home. _Her pleas were nothing for the Lord as compared to the Winter Rose's._

Jon moved her behind his back, never losing the contact. The woman was a stranger and barely reliable but still that didn’t meant he could leave her alone in the hands of the animals.

“My King, I am honoured by your faith in me and owing to that trust, I request you to trust me with her. She is my reward and I will make sure to turn her into a proper lady. From our marriage morrow to till her death, she will be a perfectly obedient woman.” He answered.

The King played with the whore on his lap, taking swigs from his cup as he narrowed her eyes on the Targaryen princess that hid behind his greatest man. Jon Snow was a man of honour but the blood of two beasts made him dangerous and edgy. _Animosity with him could cost him his entire rule!_

“Fine!-“ The king declared and the party quickly turned towards the door to leave but his words stopped them dread in their tracks. “ But she will get punishment for her crime. I hope you won’t defy your king on that, given that you are a disciplined commander yourself.”

Jon scanned the room, trying to get an estimate of the number of men that surrounded them. There wouldn’t be more than 500 souls in the room with bad ones outnumbering the good ones and nobody would spare a tear for the whores but still, a mutiny on the Targaryen lands would be threatening for his beloved and also for the lonely princess which might push them all to escape in the life of nomads, something he didn’t want for his family. So, he relented.

“Since, she is the bride and I don’t want to responsible for you to have an ugly one on your wedding day! But she is a war hostage who committed a crime and given the circumstances-“ The king waved his hand at the crowd”- if my men can’t teach her lesson then they should get a glaring atf you teaching it to her.”

“NO!” Daenerys shouted but was quickly silenced by Jon who was glaring at the King in surprise. His sentence was filthier than scarred wounds, something that he was more than ready to inflict on him in return.

“She is going to be my wife, Lady of House Dayne! As an honourable man, I am going to claim her on our wedding bed, not in front of molesters.” Jon screamed.

The King pulled the hairs of the whore as he started to finger her cunt. Dany averted her eyes back on the ground wanting it to swallow her, right then.

“Who said you have to bed her in public. I do know she will become a lady morrow but right now she is just a hostage and you can make a woman come without bedding her! Can’t you, Jon Snow?” He mocked as he sped up his fingers.

Deeply sickened by his words, he stared at the King as his jaw clenched and fingers curled into fists. _All it would take just one swipe of Long Claw and he would join Rhaegar Targaryen in his grave!_

“You want me to tarnish the reputation of my Lady before this court of Harassers! My mother didn’t bring me up as scum and she would have definitely expected for you to treat her daughter-in-law with respect.” He barked.

Gloom and rage melded in his eyes as he turned his actions harsh on the naïve harlot whose cries echoed in the room, joining the other distressing sounds. He bored into Dany before turning his attention back to Jon. “Enough! Lyana isn’t here and let me tell you, boy, she didn’t had much love for the Targaryens. So, for the last time either you do what I asked or I take her back from you and finally let my men teach her a lesson.”

Armoured hands reached for their weapons as the tension in the hall, reached the height. Jon looked at his companions. He could easily survive the attack, if it happened, even escape with the princess and his family but it would be his men and their families who would pay the price. _Was the princess worth years of loyalty!_

Pulling at all the gears inside his head, he settled on the middle path- he would give the King what he wanted but not the way he wanted. “Step back.” He commanded his men and pushed Daenerys on her hands and knees. Tucking at her moony tresses, he bent over her and whispered in his ear. “You will do as I say.”

Daenerys gulped as her heart sank into her chest, beating slowly with every second like death had engulfed her. She was going to die, a hundred times or more than that from the eyes that were on her and followed the hand that raked her body. With her dying breaths, she slowly murmured from her trembling lips. “Please, No. You promised!”

But he didn’t stop, only tossed her hair to the side and nibbled on her ear, whispering softly. “I can’t put my men's lives at risk.” A tear slipped down her cheek as his hand trudged inside her skirt, pulling her legs open and then slid up her creamy legs to her small clothes, tearing them apart to leave her mound naked. She pushed back violently when his fingers traced her neither lips to kill herself as soon the man got off her. But Jon was strong and in return of her push, he forced his weight on her back while he encircled his hand around her arm, locking her in the position.

With a heavy heart, he peppered the crook of her neck with kisses, trying to soothe both of their souls in this misery. She didn’t relax and he didn’t flinch. Bound by the intricate fibres of hatred, both of them were seized in the act that they both condemned and were feeble in courage and power. But even in the darkness, he wanted to preserve them both in heart and soul or whatever it was left off but without her help, all his efforts were in vain.

He kissed the trail to her ear and muttered. “I am sorry.” Her head turned to him, brushing her lips over his as the slight movement ignited the spark that they both loathed at the time. Her sullen broken lilacs bored into his deep and yet regretful stormy grey, showing a glimpse of the battle he fought inside. A small dew cast over lips as his fingers rubbed her intimately, filling her veins with a steady dose of arousal. Confiscated in the moment, she felt ashamed of the discovery in the audience of prying lewd eyes.

“Without your help, I won’t be able to get us out of here. So, just relax.” Baffled, she struggled hard in his embrace to free herself from the monster. _How could he ask her assistance in raping her?_ Furious, she dug her nails into his hand, earning an indecent word for his lip. He quickly dulled her attempt and held her tightly.

“I am not going to rape you. You have my word but if you don’t behave like the king wants you to behave then even I won’t be able to save you from these pathetic scoundrels.” He whispered. Jon knew it was a lie, he would give his life protecting this woman for the reason was still unknown to him. But he couldn’t put his men's head on the sticks for his feelings.

Begrudgingly, Dany turned her eyes on the King to put the show that he and his pricks expected. Staring directly at the fat moron, who sat on her father’s throne, she whispered soft “hmm” hidden from the intrusive ears. She didn’t believe him or anybody in that room but if the man was ready to give her an escape or to commit a mistake, she could use it to her advantage. Not turning around or to the side, she kept her eyes on the King and waited for her que.

With her body relaxed a bit, Jon moved the show forward as he shifted his hand to her chest, cupping one of her breasts. Kneading the soft flesh gently through the cloth, he caressed her hardening peaks as he ignored the tightness in his trousers, the slickness of her cunt, the weight of her breasts and the peaks that with every slight roll, earned a harsh breath from her while he delivered smooth kisses against her heating skin. The voices around them were on their height and as he opened her flower in her skirt and pushed his wet finger gently at the entrance of her cunt, a gasp left her throat, filling the air with filthy sensual energy.

His crude finger easily moved further within her, making the realization dawn upon him that the woman wasn't new to self-pleasure but her slightly open lips and tightness in her pussy told him that the sensations were new. His eyes turned to the King who had pushed his whore down on her knee and was bobbing her mouth up and down his length, taking pleasure both from her mouth and the scene while a stream of hot tears flowed down the Targaryen cheeks, instantly he pulled out and moved his lips to her ear to end the show and seize the moment. “Everybody is lost. Push and run to the left stairs to the dungeon stairs. Don’t stop until you see a small 'X' on the wall.”

Dany quickly complied and pushed with all her strength, getting him off and ran for the door. She hastily grabbed the handle and left the room as a string of knights jumped to follow her but they were stopped by the Wolf. “No, she is mine. I will cut you off if you even tried to touch her. Only I will catch her.” With that, he stood up and bowed to the king, happy with displeasure in his eyes and swiftly left the hall to follow her trail while leaving his men behind. _May the King die of blue balls!_

He took the stairs left to the dungeons and walked the lit path, looking for the sign that he had asked her to find. There was no way, she could get out of this land without facing death that only left him with one option- to keep her safe and tied to him. Something that Jon Snow, the son of Arthur Dayne and Lyana Stark should have resented but unfortunately for him, he was smitten by the woman’s bravery, vigour and fire, prompting him to her hand in marriage as his reward. And now, the worst had happened, her voluptuous figure had found a way to his cock that was killing him as he continued to search for the source of the problem. _Maybe he will have to find relief in brothels like other men. But the thought itself disgusted him._

A rod suddenly attacked him from the dark and quick on reflexes, he dodged it with a sharp twirl on his feet. The steel moved again and before it could do any harm, he blocked it with his hand and yanked it on the floor. 

With fury in her eyes, the dragon princess charged on him with her hands, hitting and pushing at his chest while he fought her attack with gentle blocks before grabbing her shoulders, giving her a harsh shook and finally pressing her against the bars. “Stop it!” He murmured, looking deep into her blazing amethyst with his fiery grey's, both of them desperate for relief- relief from the situation around them, relief from the dictation over their lives and relief from the tension that disgraceful moment sparked in their bodies. Not able to hold back any more, Dany crashed her lips on his, fire moulding into ice as she scratched his shoulder in vengeance and passion, latching for support in this hostile moment that had kept her alive for the past three days. Biting and sucking, they delved further into the mouths, fighting for dominance with their tongues as they reaped the fervour from building heat, finally letting go.

Jon tore her dress apart, latching wildly on the tout peaks, sucking and rolling them with his tongue while his hand squeezed the round boobs, sending currents straight to his cock. She bit her lip, throwing her head against the bars, arching her back as she pushed her chest into his mouth and rubbed his length against her cunt through her skirt. There were no thoughts, just memories of the past nights flashing through their eyes-the war, the aftermath, blood, bodies, cries, everything they had seen under the gloomy sky. She had no home any more and he never had one, if bricks and stones were to be counted out. But together in the dire moment, they found solace.

Sparks tingled in her spine, sending bolts through her body with every charge igniting her cut that was now drenched, leaking her juices on to her thighs. She jerked against his length, a harsh groan leaving his throat that vibrated against her tit and ended straight in her womb, releasing a fresh gush. In haste, she pulled him away and wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing his member closer to her cunt.

“We can’t! We are not married yet.” He protested but damn his honour as Dany pushed her hand between them and stroked his cock through his trouser, earning more groans from his sinful mouth before untying his breeches and letting his steel hard cock free. She caressed the tip with her thumb, spreading his precum down his length and stroked the meaty length with her hand. Eager and careless, she let go of him, pulled closer, moving his hands to her skirt. “We will have to go slow, it will hurt.” He warned as he gave up on dignity and bundled up her skirt around her waist before lining up against her dampened lips. 

There was no pain in this world anymore that she couldn’t bear. Her family was dead, her home was burned and her country was thrashed. All she needed now was a moment of numbness, where she couldn’t feel the hatred and sadness that engulfed her heart and a small pain of harsh fucking cannot snatch that away. “Don’t be gentle, I want it hard.” She said as she peered into his eyes. 

Knowing the emotions very well that he saw in her eyes, Jon pulled a little and then pushed all the way in, capturing her mouth with his and muffling the cry that rocked her body. The sharp ache blew through her, numbing her mind, burning the images as she lost herself in the frenzy kiss while the agony became dim. He shoved in her fiercely, setting a heady rapid rhythm as he faded in the desire and anger that had pent up in his every nerve.

The bars trembled and her breasts wobbled as he pounded into her in the flickering light of the torch with heavy moans and broken skins, driving them both crazy and towards the edge where they could simply fall and find escape. And it came, with a raw groan as her wet channel pulsed around his hard length, shattering her into thousand tiny pieces, feelings leaving her with the gush as she quivered against the bars. He was not far behind for his cock pulsed, sending tingles down his spine as he burst inside her warm, fertile womb, filling her up with his seed.

Limp and heaving, he pulled out and stumbled against the opposite wall, tucking himself back in before staring in the amethyst eyes of the ethereal beauty that was going to be his for the rest of his life. They stood there entranced in each other eyes, seeing the fog fade away and looking at each other for the first time, the agony, the suffering, the darkness- all the same, yet nothing in each other’s presence. Sound of feet broke the trance and Jon quickly removed his tunic, covering the lady with the cloth and his body.

“Who is it?” He called out and the feet stopped midway.

“A squire, Sir! I have been sent by the King to look for you and ask whether you have been able to control the hostage or does the King need to interfere?” The boy shouted from the corner without even looking in their direction.

Fire coursed through his vein and his mighty Edderon roared outside, ready to char anyone on his command. “Lady Dayne is resting in our chambers and will only come out for our wedding morrow. Before that, if anybody disturbs her, they will be giving their explanations to Edderon and Ghost.”

The squire screamed a quick “Yes, sir!” and sprinted back to the king with his dear life leaving them alone in the silence. He turned his eyes back to her, seeing the loneliness reflect that shone in his eyes.

“I will never forgive you. Not in this life.” She murmured.

Honest with resolve, the greys bore into amethyst, making a promise for eternity. “You should not. But you have to survive for the sake of your family, to build it back and to claim the throne at the right time. And if anything is left inside me after the politics and war, it’s yours to kill.” 

He turned and left her with his tunic in search of the refuge from the feelings that will now rule his life. Dany looked at the empty soul that mirrored her own and then turned to the scratched tunic that held the promises of the uncertain fate that had brought them together, will make them bleed together, fight together and achieve together. Tears rimmed her eyes and lump formed in her throat as her heart became heavy with relief, anger, burden, sadness and a slightest tinge of happiness mixed with guilt, for she wanted to thank Rhaegar for leaving behind a Targaryen and also curse and hit him for ruining everything. She turned back to his retrieving figure, wanting to shout out to him. _He will not be alone._

**Author's Note:**

> FOR THOSE WAITING FOR UPDATE ON MY OTHER FIC, I AM TRYING TO MAKE IT ON TIME.


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